Pieces
by The First Architect
Summary: Because Ariel Moore didn't always use to be the girl that had been kissed a lot and stood in front of trains wishing to die.
1. Ariel Moore

**A/N:** This has been in my head for a while now. Random, I know. But I was (still am) somewhat obsessed with the remake. So read on! And drop a review if you feel like it. But if you don't, it's okay :)

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><p>Pieces<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter One:<strong>

_Ariel Moore_

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><p>"Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods?"<p>

Holding out for a Hero – **Ella Mae Bowen**

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><p>Ariel Moore didn't always use to be a rebellious country girl.<p>

She could remember a time when she was young and innocent and her older brother Bobby would tell her that she was always going to be his little sister, so she better not ever lose that southern charm. She'd smile at him and bat her eyelashes and tell him to stop flattering her. Her mother spoke and joked and smiled like she had the whole world figured out. And her father? Well, believe it or not, he was and even acted like a _father_. A real one. He used what happened in life and with his family to influence his sermons, not the other way around. They had been a family. An _actual_ family. And to put it simply, Ariel was _happy_.

But then Bobby died.

And her family tore itself apart from within.

Grief, they say, happens in stages. Ariel doesn't know who 'they' are, but she figures they know a thing or two about life and death. Because it starts with her father. The smile is replaced with a constant clenched jaw. His eyes, almost as blue as hers, which always held happiness and faith, are shrouded and consumed by unspoken anger. His temper is short as a fuse. Ariel heard him one night in his study crying and cursing God. _"How could you take him?"_ her father had said through choked, quiet, sobs. Ariel thought that was a damn good question. The anger has taken him over, and now it's hard for her to remember him without the scowl.

Then her mother shuts down. Denial and Anger and Bargaining and Depression hit her like a tidal wave, and it is too much. She barley ever leaves the house except for church. She never plays Bunko with the mothers of Bomont on Saturdays anymore. She stops meeting and greeting new people. She just stops…everything.

Ariel understands what her mother is doing better than anyone. Rusty's mother told her once that she couldn't even fathom what the loss of a child would do to you, and to just be patient, because Vi Moore was just finding her own way to cope with the loss. But Ariel understands completely. Her mother is severing all ties. Cutting her losses and fortifying her heart. Because if Vi Moore only has herself, then the good lord cannot take anything else away from her.

But Ariel is still here. She hadn't died that night on that bridge. But her parents are sure treating her that way. She wants to scream at them. Wants to yell, "Momma, I'm right here! Daddy, your little girl isn't gone!" But she doesn't think it will do any good. Her parents are grieving in their own ways, who is she to take that away from them?

And then the moment comes when her father starts to blame Bobby. He turns against Bobby. He turns against his son. The son that tried so hard—_every single damn day_—to impress him. So the betrayal of her father is the last straw. She will protect her brother's name even if it means destroying her own. Because the Crosby Bridge accident wasn't Bobby's fault. Not being able to dance in Bomont isn't his fault. The curfew isn't his fault. No matter how often her father blames Bobby for everything that has happened, Ariel will not believe it.

So that's where Chuck Cranston and her rebellious attitude comes in. If her father and mother are too busy worrying about her, then they will forget about her brother and stop blaming him. So she starts dating Chuck. Does things she isn't proud of and is the instigation of many of Rusty's mild heart attacks. Sometimes she swears she can hear her brother yelling at her to stop. That this isn't her. That she doesn't have to lose herself because of him. But she perseveres because it is her heart telling her what she wants to hear, and it isn't the truth.

And then Ren McCormick moves to town and her plans of self destruction are thrown out the window. Because no matter what her father says, Ren is a _good guy_. A guy her brother would have liked. A guy who worries about her. A guy who wants to protect her. Someone she can be normal and have fun with. Something she's almost forgotten how to do.

And that is why she finds herself sitting in Chuck's truck at the racetrack, caught in the most hostile of awkward silences.

She hopes he doesn't notice it, but she's pressing herself against the door in an attempt to get distance between them. "Are you going to say anything?" she asks plainly.

He doesn't even look at her. "I don't need to say anything. I got eyes and ears." He locks his jaw and fixes her with a good, hard, stare.

She blinks and lifts her chin slightly. "Well, I just thought you should hear it from me."

He lets out a laugh. And she shifts uncomfortably because it's so void of emotion it makes him seem dead inside. He fixes her with a greasy grin, teeth showing like a wild animal. "I mean, you crack me up. First you're into racecar drivers. Now you're into dancing gymnasts." He shakes his head with another heartless laugh and fixes her with a dead stare. "I've seen the way you look at him. Waiting for that perfect moment to dumb down and wrap those legs around—"

When he reaches out to grab one of her thighs she slaps his hand away furiously. She lets a moment pass, mostly because her heart is slamming against her chest in rage, and then spits out, "I'm sick and tired of you treating me like dirt!" She gets out of the car in a rush of furious eyes and beating hearts and makes sure to slam the truck door for good measure and storms away, wind blowing at her unbuttoned flannel.

"Oh, is that how I treated you?" Chucks voice is suddenly behind her and it takes every ounce of control in her body not to jump. "Come here!" His hand is suddenly around her writs. She tries to ripe her arm away but his grip is firm and she thinks if he grabs it any tighter he'll break her wrist. There is a voice in the back of her head telling her she should have thought this through. Things with Chuck always seem to get out of hand. Fast.

And no surprise to Ariel, this time is no different.

"Look," Chuck snarls. She's spun around against her will so fast that she actually gets dizzy for a moment. But then Chuck's hands are tight around her upper arms and his breath is hot against her face. "Just 'cause you're a preachers daughter doesn't give you a free pass at acting like a slut."

Somewhere between yelling "get off!" and "let me go!" her mind registers what he's just said to her. And there is sudden blind fury building inside her chest. Now, she's never hit anyone in her life before, but she figures there's a first time for everything.

And this is a damn good time.

So Ariel Moore clenches her right hand into a fist and punches Chuck Cranston square in the face. Her hand is suddenly on fire and she can feel each of Chuck's teeth rake across her knuckles. Chuck reels from the blow, but something tells her he's been in a couple brawls in his lifetime. Because her moment of victory is short lasted. His hands are around her is seconds, squeezing, and she's twisting and thrashing in his grasp.

Then she's being lifted and thrown forward. The ground is hard and unforgiving when she lands and her right elbow slams into the dirt, fingers suddenly going numb. For a second she is too stunned to do anything but breathe deep and steady to control the pain radiating from her elbow. But then she regains her bearings and pushes herself to hands and knees. Something hot and sticky is running down her arm and into the palm of her hand but she's too angry to even think about it.

With a, "I'm done with you!" Chuck has retreated to his truck.

But Ariel will be damned if she lets him get away that easy. Chuck is a bastard, she's concluded, and how dare he do this to her. She finds it funny, actually, that it's taken this extreme for her to realize that. But she'll mentally berate herself later.

She's on her feet with a roar of fury and grabbing a metal pole she's found nearby. When his truck shoots forward she's slamming the rod against his windshield. "_Sonofabitch!_" she yells as the glass spiderwebs and then she slugs his headlights. Then a shot to the hood.

"_What the hell are you doing!"_ Chuck's yelling as he jumps from his car. _"Stop you crazy bitch!"_ He rips the pole from her hands and spins her towards him.

She aims another punch towards his face but he leans back, dodging and then tags her with a hammer of a fist to the side of her face. She sees stars and pitches backwards to the ground. There's salty thick blood in her mouth and then a steel-toed boot slams into her stomach.

The breath shoots from her lungs and Ariel rolls from the blow, until she's on her back staring up at the sky. She chokes on blood that tries to run down her throat and coughs. Blood slips into her left eye and she squints up at Chuck Cranston who is standing over her with a somewhat annoyed look on his face.

"Now look what you've made me do," he pants.

With the last of her energy, Ariel kicks up between Chuck's legs. She grins to herself as his eyes cross in pain. With a groan he grabs himself and slumps to the ground. Ariel welcomes the silence and tries to forget the pain. It's easier said than done. For some reason breathing is suddenly difficult for her, and with every twitch of a finger on her right hand, there is tingling and sharp split seconds of pain.

"You whore!" Chuck roars in a hoarse voice, staggering to his feet. _"Crazy fucking bitch!"_

She's surprised when he doesn't run her over when he peels out of the gravel parking lot. She almost wishes he did, because now she feels like, total, utter, shit. This mess she's in, as usual, is her own damn fault. She knows it's been her fault for a long time now. But somewhere, someone's whispering that this is what she's wanted all along.

And for a lack of better terms, that really, really, sucks.

With a broken sob and a couple of tears, from the pain or her overall patheticness, she can't be sure; she gets to her hands and knees. Then, slowly, she stands on unsteady feet. Her ribs protest walking almost instantly, but she ignores them. With a focused mind, not easily done with her pounding head, she's able to take a step. Then another. And another. And soon she's walking. A slow stagger, really, but walking all the same.

In a split second she concludes that she is not going to go home. There's no way in hell she's going to let her parents see her like this. Odds are her father would have a heart attack and her mother would shut down completely. Rusty is out of the question as well, because Ariel knows her best friend will blame herself for what's happened. That's just Rusty.

So really, it all comes down to the fact that Ren McCormick is the only real person who has ever seen her at her worst. And you know what? She doesn't want to be alone right now. And she feels that Ren will be able to handle this. Ever since the bar he has kind of, sort of, shifted into a _kind of sort of_ boyfriend. A real, decent, caring _boyfriend_. It'd been a long time since Ariel has had one of those. Actually, a long time as in _never_.

With her mind set, she squares her jaw and hardens her eyes. Wiping the blood out of her eyes she takes a step down the gravel parking lot, finding success in hearing the rocks crunch under her boot.

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolls.

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	2. Ren McCormack

**A/N: **Disclaimer: I do not own _Footloose. _By the way, it is now out on DVD and BluRay. Go buy it!_  
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><p>Pieces<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter Two:<strong>

_Ren McCormack_

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><p>"Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?"<p>

Holding out for a Hero – **Ella Mae Bowen**

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><p>Ren McCormack prided himself on being able to read people. Spending time with his mother had taught him, whether he liked to admit it or not, how to read when she was lying or telling the truth. Whether she was in pain or just not feeling. When she was happy or contemplating his life without her. So, based on his growing perception of people, it was no surprise when his "father" left. Ren knew the old man was going to split probably even before he knew it himself.<p>

But his confidence in his talents wavered ever so slightly after he met Ariel Moore. To put it simply, the girl was unreadable. And that frustrated him like no other. Their first encounter painted her as the innocent, small town preacher's daughter, with the tight nit group of friends and the delicate good looks.

But he learned soon enough that Ariel Moore was a damn good liar. Or a damn good chameleon. He can't quite put his finger on it.

He watched her transform into this reckless teenage girl that was literally out of control. And even though he couldn't read her as well as he would have liked, he knew that her "romance" with Chuck Cranston and her relationship with her "friends" that weren't Rusty and Willard, were fake. It was a front. Because Ariel Moore didn't always use to be the girl that had been kissed a lot and stood in front of trains wishing to die. She used to be _normal._ The revelation came to him when they were crossing the Crosby Bridge after spending a night full of innocent fun and dancing.

"My older brother was driving them home," she had said. And the words were so void of emotion that Ren understood that a part of Ariel had died that night with her brother. The innocence. The youth. Her childhood was taken from her in probably one of the most violent acts possible in this world.

Ren almost laughs to himself. What a world they live in. A world where a sister has to destroy herself to protect her dead brother's name. Because that's what Ariel is doing. And Ren knows Ariel's lifestyle is slowly destroying her. He knows this because they way she looks at him, the way her eyes sparkle when she smiles at him, is out of affection and not just friendship. But he knows she's afraid to act on her feelings. Afraid that if she slips back into a normal, easy life, people will start to remember. But keeping so much emotion bottled up inside you is dangerous. Because you'll explode. And at the rate Ariel's going she'll be alone when it happens.

And Ren's been fearing that day for a while now. So imagine his surprise/panic when he looks out the door of the garage one rainy evening and finds none other than Ariel Moore leaning heavily against the doorframe, disheveled and soaking wet.

He sets the wrench in his hand on the ground and tries to remember how to breathe. Because the thing that unnerves him the most is what he sees in her eyes. He's sneaked peeks at her almost every second of every day, just to get a chance to look at those piercing blue eyes of hers and Ren can't help but notice that the glint in them is gone. The glint that told everyone that Ariel Moore was tough—fierce—_strong._

Ren knows this. He knows because he was so used to seeing that glint every day. His mother had eyes like that, strong and determined.

But right now? Ariel Moore's eyes are exhausted and tired and the last time he saw eyes like that, the only person he thinks he's ever loved died.

"You should see the other guy," Ariel jokes feebly with a weak smile.

Ren swallows, mind racing with a thousand different scenarios. "I have." He finally says. "But something tells me he looks better now."

He gives her a split second once-over. There's a cut in her hairline that was no doubt bleeding profusely at some point, based on the amount of blood on the collar of her flannel. Now, however, the wound is dribbling red liquid that is mixing with the rain on her face. Her split lip is overshadowed by her already turning black eye. He can't see the wound, but there is light red blood running down her right arm that is dripping from the fingertips of her bruised hand. Her left hand is wrapped tightly around her stomach, and he would bet money that ribs are bruised by the way that she's holding herself.

"You gonna invite me in," her words, thick with her country accent, snap him back to reality. "Or am I gonna have to stand out here all night?"

"Right," he blinks, shaking his head. "Right, uh, come in." He wipes his hands on his white shirt and steps towards her. She pushes off the garage frame and pain slips into her smile. Before she even has the chance to stumble, Ren is wrapping his arms around her and securing her to his chest. "Damnit Ariel," he hisses when her knees buckle slightly.

"I know," she pants. "I might have bit off more than I can chew this time."

He lets out a sad laugh as they make their way to his bedroom at the back of the garage. "I think you did that a long time ago." He tells her softly.

He helps her into his desk chair and kneels in front of her, hands on the chair arms. She holds her bloodied and bruised right fist in her left hand and bits her lip. "Maybe," she whispers. Looking up, Ren thinks that her blue eyes are the purest things he's ever seen. They captivate him and before he knows it, they've been sitting in silence for over a minute.

She blinks, as if she's remembered her current situation and flips her hair with a quick jerk of her head. "Sorry you have to see me like this." she mumbles.

He offers a small smile and reaches up to touch her cheek delicately. His fingertips brush the purple and black bruise and the skin is hot against his touch. "Does it hurt?" he asks, eyes scanning for any sign of pain.

She licks her cut lip and shakes her head. "Not really."

He leans back on his heels. "You're lying," he says simply. When she looks up and tries to protest he cuts her off. "It's okay. I'll go and get some stuff to clean you up."

"I don't need saving Ren."

He turns back to look at her and her eyes, thank god, are fierce and fiery again. That defiant, stubborn attitude of hers, he thinks. But then again, that's probably one of the most interesting features he likes about her. So strong willed and hardened by life. Or is she just broken? Ren figures it depends on how you look at it.

He laughs sadly. "I agree with you. You don't need saving." He looks at her and shrugs plainly. "But I think everyone is worth protecting. Even you Ariel. Even if you don't think so."

She stares at him for a long moment, like she's waiting for him to say 'just kidding' and leave her, but when he doesn't, she blinks something out of her eye (tears, he assumes smugly) and sniffs, turning away. "Fine." She grumbles.

He lets a grin of victory slip across his face and heads to his luggage bag. Rummaging through the contents, he pulls out a towel, t-shirt and loose jeans. He throws the clothes at her. "Get dry. I don't want you to get sick." He takes a step towards the door before turning back. "And don't move," he points a finger at her. "I mean it. I'll be right back."

She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest, clenching her jaw slightly. Annoyed, she flicks her over her shoulder. "Fine. But you better not tell anyone. I mean it, Ren. I don't need that right now."

He nods and heads out of the room.

Now that he thinks about it, he's never had to try and sneak into his Aunt and Uncles house before. It's an odd sensation that washes over him. Nostalgia? Or was it longing? Regardless, he shakes the feelings away as he pushes open the screen door lightly, trying to avoid the squeaky springs. He crosses the threshold of the living room and heads towards the closet in the hallway between Unky Wes' office and the girls' bedroom. He remembers Lulu telling him it's where they kept the first aid kit. Then, he hadn't given it much thought, but now? He's thankful he was semi-paying attention.

Opening the closet door, he kneels and slides out the kit. Searching through the contents he removes an ace bandage for Ariel's ribs, gauze, hydrogen peroxide and Neosporin for the cuts and scrapes. He pushes the kit back and shuts the door silently. Heading towards the kitchen he grabs a rag and fills a bowl with ice.

He pauses for a moment, hands resting on the counter and looks down at all of the supplies in front of him. Memories of his mother flash across his mind and he sighs deeply and drops his head, shoulders sagging in sudden exhaustion.

"Ren?"

He spins around so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. Composing himself quickly, he is not at all surprised to find Lulu standing behind him, eyes scrunched together in confusion. After all, why would his first attempt at sneaking into his Aunt and Uncles house go according to plan? Ren wasn't that lucky.

He tries to smile and waves awkwardly. "Hey, Lulu."

"What are you—" She rubs at her eyes. "What are you doing? You have any idea what time it is? You have school tomorrow."

"I know. I just—"

"Why do you have all that?" She's taken a step towards him, eyes suddenly focused and alert. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She's closed the space between them in seconds, eyes scanning him for injury.

He's suddenly uncomfortable. And it's not Lulu's fault, it's just that he's not used to other people, who weren't his mother, worrying about him.

Lulu seems to sense his uncomfortableness and takes a step back. "I'm sorry," she rushes. "I was just—worried. That's all."

He shakes his head. "No, it's okay Lulu, really. This stuff," he motions to the bandages and antiseptic. "It's not…not for me."

He's concluded that he trusts Lulu. And Unky Wes. Here Ren is, imposing himself into their lives, drawing unnecessary attention, causing unwanted trouble, and every time Wes looks at Ren, he probably sees his dead sister. And Ren can relate, because he's learned to hate grocery stores. Pretty soon all of the mothers in that place sound like his mom. So this family that has taken him in gets his utmost respect. And Ren figures he will learn to love Lulu like a second mother and Unky Wes as the father he never had.

But that doesn't mean he's going to spill his guts without a fight. After all, what's a family without a little stubborn argument?

Lulu shifts slightly to the side, just enough so she can peek around him and out the window above the sink to the garage. She looks back to him, locking with his eyes. "Who's out there Ren?"

Ren looks down to his shoes and doesn't say anything.

Lulu takes a step back and loosely crosses her arms. "I understand that I'm prying, but if you have someone who's hurt I don't want you to get mixed—"

"It's Ariel Moore." He blurts out suddenly, because there is so much worry radiating from Lulu that he feels tremendously guilty for causing it.

Lulu's eyes go wide, at his sudden confession or the identity of the person, he can't be sure, but her body reacts instantly. With two quick steps she's at the phone and Ren gets to her just before she hits send. He takes the phone from her hand and hangs it up quickly.

She spins to look at him, eyes suddenly flashing with anger. "What are you doing?" she demands in that tone that mothers have. "I was going to call Vi Moore—"

"You can't," Ren says quickly. "Lulu, Ariel needs some," he licks his suddenly dry lips, eyes searching for the right words. "Alone time. She needs to figure out some things."

"Her parents need to know—"

"Her parents have been part of the _problem_," Ren stresses. "They don't know what's going on with her. Bobby's death," the words are mud in his mouth and Lulu flinches slightly. "Did something to them. It did something to _all of them_. Grief is a powerful thing, Lulu, and no matter how strong you are, it will wear you down."

His Aunt fixes him with a steady gaze.

He realizes he won't persuade her to keep this secret. Deep down, Ariel Moore's parents need to be told about the situation. Hopefully he can get Lulu to buy him some time to cool her down.

He sighs and runs his hands over his face. Turning to his Aunt, he nods his head. "You can call Vi Moore, but wait a little bit." Lulu opens her mouth to interrupt, but Ren cuts her off. "_Please_ Lulu. Just—wait."

Lulu lets out a frustrated sigh but nods her head none the less. "Okay, Ren. I'll give you an hour."

Ren smiles. "Thanks, Lulu. Really. This means a lot." He gathers the supplies in his arms and turns towards the door, only to hesitate. "When you do talk to Ariel's mom," he says softly. "Try and make her understand that Ariel's safe here." He locks eyes with his Aunt. "That Ariel's safe with _me_."

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